


How Deep is Your Love

by Verve



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verve/pseuds/Verve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Trost Oceanographic Institute surveys the sea floor, which remains a largely unexplored part of the planet. Levi is an expert diver. A blind date with a special strawberry blonde sparks the beginning of something big.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mistos was a swanky Mediterranean restaurant built on a cliff that overlooked the Pacific. The deck was mostly empty. Levi idly watched the yachts below. Their billowing sails were white specks against an infinite cobalt canvas. It was sunny today. Light reflected off the waves; a more sentimental person might pause to admire the sparkling display but not Levi. This entire situation was shitty. Why did Erwin and Hanji think it was a remotely good idea? 

The sun was directly overhead now. It cast a glare on the synthetic sapphire face of Levi’s watch. He frowned. 12:05. The short man could be patient when necessary. Levi trusted Erwin wholeheartedly; nevertheless, he now regretted acquiescing to this shitty meetup. If this “Petra” person did not show up within the next five minutes, he was definitely leaving. Blind dates were stupid. 12:09. The meeting had been scheduled for noon. Levi’s perpetual frown deepened. He rose and shrugged into the sleeves of an ash grey jacket that mirrored the hue of his irises.

A rapid clicking of heels against tile caught the man's attention. A young woman with light apricot hair was dashing toward the table like her life depended upon it. 

“I-I’m so sorry! I’m sorry for being late. My name is Petra Ral.”

She was met with a glare that could silence a packed auditorium. Elevated by cork wedges, Petra stood exactly eye to eye with Levi. They were less than two feet apart. His stare did not falter. Petra eventually looked away, tightening the grip around her clutch. The other hand rested on the waist of a tweed, taupe pencil skirt. She scooted into a chair. With an irritable sigh, Levi followed suit. He held high standards for himself and the people around him. Petra was undeniably pretty. However, that meant little as she had yet to win his respect. 

“You must be Levi. My old biology professor, Ms. Hanji, mentioned you.” The slightly flustered woman smiled kindly. Her hair ran a couple inches past chin-length. It framed Petra's face nicely. She tucked a few flyaways behind an ear. Levi noted that his date had very delicate wrists and long, slender fingers. Despite her nervousness, the young woman continued to smile. Petra unfolded a linen napkin. She gracefully placed it on her lap.

“Well, I wouldn’t trust everything that comes out of that mad scientist’s mouth.” The sentence was followed by an uneasy stillness. A waiter arrived with two menus, a basket of bread, water, and a saucer of olive oil containing minced garlic. Petra broke off a piece from the freshly baked loaf. She dipped it into the oil before popping it into her mouth, chewing slowly and contently. The young woman gestured for Levi to help himself. 

“...That’s unsanitary. I’m not going to eat a piece of bread that you’ve already touched. I hope that you washed your hands,” responded Levi. The inflection was scathing. He skimmed the menu with disinterest. Hanji had suggested this establishment. The food had better be good. Levi flagged down the waiter. When prompted if they would like an appetizer, Levi responded with a steely glint that froze the server's tongue. Prolonging the meal was pointless. The waiter had better think twice about parading around with the dessert tray after lunch. Levi didn’t like sweets, anyway. “I’ll have the rack of lamb with couscous and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon-Merlot.”

“May I please have the Greek chicken salad with extra feta cheese? I’d also like some seltzer water,” chimed Petra. The waiter collected the menus, promising to deliver the meals shortly. 

Petra dabbed at the corner of her mouth where a crumb clung to shimmery peach lip gloss. “Ms. Hanji said that she attended Berkeley with you and your boss.” 

“What else did shitty glasses tell you?” Despite the apathetic tone, the enunciation was pleasantly smooth. Levi sat with his legs crossed.

“That’s all I know.” Petra made a bitter face as she took a sip of lemon water. Nevertheless, her lunch date wore an even sourer expression. “Ms. Hanji was my favorite professor. She was also my mentor. I graduated from Stanford last spring with a degree in biology. Have you ever visited the campus? It’s gorgeous, especially in the fall,” ventured the strawberry blonde. 

“No interest.” Levi crossed his arms. The man's pupils were razor sharp beneath half-closed lids. “It’s amazing that I got into Berkeley considering my seedy high school years. I didn’t apply to any private schools. There was no way in hell that I was incurring a $200,000 debt upon graduating. Fuck student loans.”

The waiter returned with the drinks and entrees. He refilled Petra’s water before making a speedy exit, visibly shrinking beneath Levi’s intimidating gaze. 

“My father helped fund my education. I’m really lucky to have his support. We kept in touch via snail mail when I was in the dorms. What do you do for a living?” smiled Petra. She speared a very plump kalamata olive. Her eyes softened. When Levi realized that he had been admiring their golden color, he shifted his attention to the juicy rack of lamb on the table. The savory aroma stirred his appetite. Petra must have been hungry. She was nearly halfway through the salad, having already eaten the chicken sliced on top. 

“I work for the Trost Oceanographic Institute. Erwin is the president of the organization. We survey stretches of ocean floor that have remained largely unexplored. Most of research requires unmanned submersibles but we also conduct human dives. It’s weird. There’s so much that we don’t know despite the advances in modern technology. Big ass monsters like giant squid and gross tube worms live down there, too.” He neatly sliced the meat grilled with rosemary, oregano, and garlic. It was tender. “At least the food doesn’t taste like shit.”

A quiet crunching could be heard across the table. Petra appeared to be enjoying her croutons. “It’s a shame that humans are polluting the sea. I like snorkeling and surfing, but I’ve always wanted to go scuba diving off the California coast. Maybe I can get certified someday.” Those honey orbs glowed with happy hopes and dreams. 

Why did he feel inclined to help her? Levi was under no obligation to see Petra after today’s lunch date. But perhaps Erwin was right. He needed a change of pace. Expeditions were costly, requiring both private funding and government grants. It had been months since Levi’s last dive. Most days were a mundane nine to five in a cubicle. That had gotten old fast. Levi carefully considered his response. He wasn’t one to go back on his word. “This is my business card. Our facilities feature a deep pool that is used to simulate missions. I can teach you to scuba after work on Fridays. Bring a wetsuit. We have extras, but sharing is just nasty.” He shuddered involuntarily.

Levi  
Atmospheric Diving Suit Specialist  
Trost Oceanographic Institute  
104 Maria Road, Los Angeles  
(323) 555-DIVE Ext. 22

“No last name, huh? How mysterious.” A grin illuminated her entire face. She looked cheeky yet angelic. 

Levi tore his eyes from Petra’s mischievous smile and studied the sailboats with sudden interest. He swirled the merlot in its glass. It was a smooth, controlled motion. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you. Training require discipline. But it’s worth it. Do what I say and you will become an excellent diver.” The words were meant to be encouraging but the delivery was devastatingly flat.

Petra took a swig of ice cold seltzer water. “Thank you for offering to teach me. I promise to work hard!” Her jaw was set with determination and purpose. She met his intense gaze without flinching. 

“Good.” A smirk tugged at otherwise stoic features.

The pair shared a comfortable silence until it was interrupted by the return of the waiter. He collecting their plates and placed a bill on the table before scurrying to the kitchen.

Levi drew a wallet from his interior jacket pocket. It was forest green with a double winged motif. Adept fingers skimmed through various debit, credit, and membership cards until they grasped a Mistos gift card. It had been a Christmas present from Hanji last year. Technically, it was also a birthday gift. Being born on December 25 sucked balls. 

Petra had unclasped her clutch. She placed $36.43 on the plastic tip tray without looking at the guest receipt. Levi raised an eyebrow. He was impressed by her perceptiveness; the Stanford graduate had remembered the exact price of the Greek salad, lamb entree, and wine. She calculated the tax, included a 15% gratuity, and divided the entire cost by two. “Let’s split the bill. You can pay my share next time!” she laughed.

Would there be a next time? Another lunch date?

Definitely.  
____  
Levi loosened the double Windsor knot around his neck. He hung the tie inside a steel locker. 

“I figured that I’d find you here,” said a tall blond with a deep side part. He smiled knowingly. Erwin Smith was wearing a sleek, black double breasted suit that accentuated his broad shoulders. The president was holding a stack of manila folders. Apparently he had just come from a meeting.

Levi merely hummed in response.

“You know, that Haruka Nanase kid tried to break in again last night,” mused Erwin. “That’s the third time this season.”

“Why don’t you hire better security guards, then. Did you want me to kick his ass? I’m not a babysitter,” he scoffed. 

That shit-eating grin didn’t disappear. Fuck.

“I know that you have more important things to do, Levi. I’ll have Eren Jaegar take care of it.” The blond leaned a shoulder against the locker. “So, Hanji tells me that your blind date was a success. She owes me $100 for losing a bet. I know you better than anyone,” commented Erwin. His inflection was so damn casual; it was maddening. “I heard that you’ve taken Petra under your wing. You’re going to teach her how to scuba dive?”

Levi’s fingers paused on the second button of his meticulously pressed shirt. Calculating grey eyes flashed to meet equally calculating blue. The president was a formidable strategist, always two steps ahead. “Is there a problem?”

“We won a grant at the board meeting this afternoon. There will be a deep-submergence vehicle mission in two months. If it goes well, we will wear atmospheric diving suits to gather more data.”

“... I see.”

Levi was an expert with the ADS. He was considered the best deep sea diver in North America. However, expeditions were still risky. It had been a while since the last mission due to federal budget cuts. 

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your job, your date is welcome to train here.” 

The shorter man rolled his eyes. They both knew that nothing came between Levi and his work. “I’ll have her certified within seven weeks.”

“Excellent.” Erwin patted his subordinate on the shoulder. “Conditioning is important but don’t overexert yourself. It’s not a crime to leave the institute before six,” admonished the president in parting. 

“Hmph.” 

The locker room door clicked shut. Levi pulled his buttoned shirt over a hanger. He unlaced a polished Italian shoe with a pensive expression. It had been a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

Wednesday and Thursday passed uneventfully. Employees darted for the exit the moment that the needle hit five on Friday. Their eagerness to depart reminded Levi of restless high school students. Nevertheless, most would find themselves plodding through rush hour traffic. He wasn’t envious of them. Levi logged off his desktop and left for the locker room. 

The experienced diver traded trousers for 22 inch board shorts. They were charcoal with snap cargo pockets and a silver drawstring. He slipped into a red t-shirt. It fit snugly. A tin whistle hung from a chain inside the locker. Levi snatched it before heading to the training tank.

The man was surprised to see Petra crouched over the water’s edge. Her hand was cautiously testing the temperature of the water. It was a dark, bottomless cobalt. She rose upon hearing his footsteps. A black, skin tight wetsuit hugged every curve of her body like stripes around a candy cane. Pink piping accentuated each contour. When their eyes met, Petra looked away. She bit her lower lip as warmth spread across her nose and cheeks.

“You’re here early,” said Levi. He pointedly refrained from acknowledging Petra’s nice figure. Admittedly, it was very nice.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting this time,” she asserted. “The security guard handed me a guest pass. It’s in the locker room.” Petra curled her fingers into a loose fist. Her hair was lustrous like a newly minted penny. She gingerly edged closer, thin brows furrowed, fearful of getting burned by his gaze. 

They were engaged in an awkward staring contest. Levi sighed; her outfit was exasperatingly distracting. “Let’s get started. I don’t want to be here all night. This saltwater tank ranges in depth between 18 meters to 30 meters. Today I’ll just be evaluating your swimming form, endurance, and speed.” He walked toward a stack of plastic patio chairs. “LIFEGUARD” was printed above a white cross between his shoulder blades.

Petra pursed her lips. A low flame flickered in the depths of liquid amber irises. It was a challenge. “I’ve been surfing for three years; I’m not going to drown.”

Levi arched an eyebrow. They were thin and severe. “At least I didn’t bring out the orange floaties. Until I can assess your abilities, I will take responsibility for your life.” 

He dragged a chair to the poolside. Beside it was a rope neatly coiled around a red rescue can. The torpedo buoy, or “Torp”, had a black leash. Levi crossed his legs. His back was impossibly straight. “Swim the length of this pool ten times. Freestyle. Begin when I blow this whistle,” he droned. Levi eyed the second hand on his watch. Moments later, a shrill signal pierced the air. 

Petra dove into the tank with the finesse of a porpoise. She shivered upon making contact with the water. The woman recovered quickly, kicking swiftly and pulling through the water with ease.

He watched Petra with mild curiosity. Her front crawl could benefit from slight refinements but she was a capable swimmer. 05:45. The woman seemed very determined. 06:21. Greedy, unsteady breaths could be heard over the splashing of water. 07:55. She was pushing herself to the limit. The gasps grew louder after the final turn but her pace never slowed. Petra slapped the rim of the tank with a palm. Mission complete!

Levi noted her gaping mouth and flushed face. Evidently, she was unaccustomed to such rigorous exercise. Surfing and timed swimming were quite different. Petra ran her hands through a soggy mop of hair. The tips were tangled. She swept the strays behind her ears and looked at him expectantly.

“Who taught you how to swim?” asked Levi. His inquisitiveness was masked by an impassive intonation. 

“My dad. I never had formal lessons,” she admitted.

It was as he had expected. Her technical quirks were the result of amateur training. “You swam 500 yards in 8:22. That’s not great, but not terrible, either.” Levi twirled the whistle cord around an index finger. “Relax your arm during the recovery stage. Minimize side-to-side movement by practicing kicking. You bend your legs too much.” His voice was deep and smooth like a well-tuned cello. Levi was generally impatient when dishing out advice but talking to her was different. She was different. Petra didn’t cower like some obsequious servant before a tyrant. Nor did she worship him like a fangirl at a rock concert. She was intelligent. She worked hard. The woman intuitively respected his boundaries. He, in turn, respected her.

“Thanks for the tips,” beamed Petra. She rested her arms over the concrete lip of the tank. The woman gathered her hair into a short ponytail and squeezed out the excess water. Droplets splattered on the cement. She sighed. It conveyed both weariness and contentment. “I like the back of your shirt.”

“The sun and the washing machine have beaten the hell out of it.”

Petra studied the handles of the crimson rescue can. “Are you a registered lifeguard? Sorry, that question must sound stupid,” she added as an afterthought. 

“It’s not stupid,” he replied without thinking. “I’m stationed at the beach on Sundays.” 

Amber eyes widened. “Don’t you work at the institute full-time, too?”

“Living on the strand is fucking expensive. The pay here is shitty and not everyone has a loaded parent to pay for food, gas, and mortgages,” snapped Levi. Upon seeing her melancholic expression, he inwardly cursed. She looked like a kicked kitten. “I mean… it’s not like I have anything better to do. My life is pretty boring outside of expeditions.” 

Petra’s body was partially suspended above the tank. Traces of a frown lingered. She opened her mouth but a reply never left her tongue. The frigid saline water had turned her lips blue. They were slightly chapped. Nevertheless, Petra appeared hesitant to leave the water. It was as if exiting at this juncture in their conversation would be a critical mistake. After an unsteady minute, her body slipped back into the pool. “Um, I’m going to prepare for the floating portion of the test now. Can you tell me when ten minutes is up?”

Thankful for the distraction, Levi simply nodded. They spent the next eight minutes in silence. He rose from the patio chair and began pacing the width of the tank. “Hey, do you remember the location of the Mediterranean restaurant? Mistos?” asked the lifeguard.

“Yeah. What about it?” The water was tranquil. Petra was reclining on her back. Her breathing was slow and steady.

“There’s a median strip that runs from Avenue N to the restaurant. I run there every morning before work. It’s good conditioning. You should come sometime.” His awkward attempt at an apology sounded oh so fucking exciting. What was this, the military? It didn’t help that his inflection was flatter than a can of club soda that had been left in the sun for five hours. 

Levi made an inconspicuous effort to tear his focus from her arched bust. However, Petra’s cheeks were already blooming pink. Damn her supernatural perception! His eyes narrowed out of habit. 

She giggled. “Okay, how about Wednesday morning at 6:30? We can meet in the restaurant parking lot,” Petra suggested.

“Fine.” He was happy, inside. Outside, Levi looked like he’d rather watch fifty minutes of continuous online commercials. 

Petra beckoned him to the edge of the tank with a sunny smile. Her teeth were perfectly white. Against his better judgment, Levi approached the water. As he bent down, she splashed a tsunami directly in his face. The man’s surprised and irate reaction made her cackle. 

His head and torso were soaked. The drenched t-shirt clung to Levi like a second skin. If it had been any other prankster, they would be so fucked. “Now I’ll have to take another shower. There’s no way that I’m driving home wet with salty tank residue. Who knows when they last changed that water. ” His eyes narrowed out of habit but the gesture lacked genuine malice.

“Sorry, Levi.” She didn’t look very remorseful. At all. “I’ll see you Wednesday morning? You really should--”

Levi peeled off the cold tee and ran a hand through his damp hair. Despite the man’s slenderness, he was pretty cut. There wasn’t an inch of fat on his body. The undercut emphasized the length of his neck. Warm toffee eyes strayed to the dip of his clavicle. Levi possessed an intimidating beauty. Dangerous and lithe like a cheetah stalking its prey. 

Petra was caught gaping. Levi lifted an eyebrow. “A fly is going to land in your mouth. Stop looking at me like some creepy moray eel.”

She struggled to recover from a fit of embarrassment. “Um, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re super fit. Since it’s required for your job…”

The words petered off as the bridge of her nose turned red.

There was a weighty silence. Levi grabbed the can and returned the patio chair to its corner. He glanced over his shoulder. “Just don’t be late; I have a very strict morning schedule.”

“Yes, sir!”

They headed toward their respective locker rooms. Steam clouded the bathroom mirrors as Levi shampooed the nasty ass saline from his hair. The hot water massaged a knot that had formed between his shoulders. When had he become so tense? The lifeguard always performed well under pressure. He was respected for remaining level-headed during the most treacherous scenarios. So why was his body twisted in knots?

Levi turned off the water and grabbed a fluffy cream towel. A pair of strawberries was embroidered in the corner. His mind drifted toward Petra. Her wet hair and brilliant white smile would bless his dreams for days to come.


	3. Chapter 3

“Where’s your car?” asked Petra as she locked the door of a boysenberry BMW 435i coupe. She rolled the sleeves of a track jacket to her elbows and double-knotted the laces of Adidas cross-trainers. 

“It’s parked near my condo. I jogged here,” droned Levi. Despite the bags under his eyes, the short man stood tall and erect. An unzipped, forest green hoodie hung loosely around his shoulders. “The median path is one mile long, so the total distance is two miles. Let’s go.”

Levi didn’t wait for a reply. He pivoted on his heel and took off, running from the parking lot to the rocky strip before Petra could zip up her fuchsia jacket. The gravel crunched beneath his athletic shoes, creating a steady rhythm that beat in tune with his heart. Levi's strides were long and limber. Gentle rays of sunlight filtered through the willows, beeches, and pines that protected the path. Dew had yet to evaporate from unkempt bushes. The scent of wild grass was sweet. 

His sanctuary was only rarely disrupted by the whir of a passing car. Levi relished the tranquility. This path was his treasured secret that soothed any irritations or stress, if only temporarily. Birds were twittering in the branches above. Those fuckers had better not shit on his head. 

Ragged panting broke Levi’s reverie. Feet were dragging through the sandy gravel, leaving skid marks like skis. The man glanced at his watch. His brows knitted together. Levi was currently jogging at a 7:30 minute mile pace. It was a leisurely speed; he typically ran around 4:55 when training for an expedition. Was Petra struggling? Was she suffering because of him? A frown tugged at the edges of his mouth. Levi gradually decelerated until he could hear her gasping directly behind. 

Sweat was dripping down the bridge of her nose. The track jacket was tied around her waist. Petra’s thin cotton tank top was wet beneath the arms. She shied away, mentally piling sandbags into a makeshift wall to prepare for a flood of harsh criticisms.

Petra was dismayed that Levi hadn’t broken a sweat. “Sorry. I should have taken it slower,” he said with a deadpan expression. “What’s your pulse rate?”

She continued to breath heavily. “It’s okay. I’m -- just out of-- shape.” The words were punctuated by a weak laugh. Petra wiped the back of a hand against her forehead. She tilted her head, placing two fingers on a carotid artery. “170 beats per minute. Thanks for showing -- me this -- training spot. It’s really nice.”

His gaze dipped to the sweat running down her décolletage. For some weird reason, it didn’t gross him out. “Let’s just jog for the remaining half mile. Think of it as a cool down,” he instructed. 

She inhaled a deep breath and blew out slowly. Petra bit her lip and glanced away, her flushed cheeks suddenly becoming more red. “I’m sorry that I ruined your workout. That I’m dragging you down. I promise to get faster.” 

Petra reminded him of a flustered schoolgirl. “...It’s fine. Let’s head back so I can go home and take a shower.” He wasn’t actually sweaty but showering twice (or thrice) a day was an essential part of his daily routine. The man’s fixation with cleanliness almost met the DSM-IV diagnostic criteria for OCD.

The sun was shining brightly above the horizon when the pair reached the empty lot. As they stretched, Levi noticed that Petra’s endorphins had kicked in because the smile on her face was absolutely blinding.

“Levi, is it okay if we go running on Wednesday mornings and swimming on Friday evenings from now on?”

He stuffed both hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Why?” The man sounded more bored than a student reciting the dictionary from A to Z. 

“I… umm.” Petra twirled her hair and tucked it behind an ear. The strawberry blonde opened her mouth as if to say something important but then she hesitated, staring at the weeds peeking through cracks in the asphalt. “Well… you encourage me to push myself harder. I want to live up to your expectations.”

The sweetness in those honey-hued eyes made his chest swell with warmth. She looked so… perfect. No makeup, no hair extensions, no fake tan. Petra didn’t need any of those things. The woman was a natural beauty who glowed with kindness and positive energy.

“Fine. On Friday, I’ll show you how to use the fins and breathing apparatus.”  
\---

Petra was a quick learner. Within three weeks, she had grasped the basics of scuba diving. Levi explained the regulator, tank, and buoyancy control device. She was fitted with a harness. A dive computer monitored depth and time underwater. 

Levi suspected that Petra ran between their median meetups. By the end of the fourth week, she could run two miles in less than 14:10. She could swim 500 meters in 6:54. Her confidence had also grown. Levi was secretly proud of Petra. Sometimes he would pat the woman’s shoulder after she set a new personal record. 

Petra pulled into the Mistos parking lot but found that another car was parked in her usual spot. A man was leaning against the sky blue Toyota. He wore a white, long-sleeved t-shirt and low-waisted jeans. 

“Levi?”

“We’re not running today,” he said matter of factly.

“...You drive a Prius? I guess it fits you. Since you’re so sma--”

“Shut up and get in the car.” His eyes narrowed to crinkled slits. She giggled.

Levi rarely carried passengers. Erwin refused to ride shotgun, citing that he felt like a canned sardine on wheels. 

“Wow, this Prius is in pristine condition. Is it brand new? There isn’t a speck of dirt or lint,” admired Petra. Her body swayed to an indie rock track on the radio. Through the window, she watched the sun rise over a watery zaffre horizon. 

“It’s three years old.” 

Petra’s mouth fell open. She interlocked her fingers in an attempt to regain composure. “Do you never drive it?”

“How do you think I get to work? Every bus around here has sandy seats. The floors are fucking gross. Tourists drag wet surfboards down the aisle like they own the place.” His nose wrinkled in distaste. “It’s even shittier when there are sewage spills. Literally.” 

Lightning flashed through Levi’s stormy grey eyes. It was obviously a touchy subject. His lips flattened into a sharp line. After passing a row of dive shacks, coffee shops, and bike rentals, Levi dipped into an underground parking structure. It was tiny; the spaces were closer than teeth on a comb. 

They ascended a series of concrete steps to the third floor. A garish green and orange linoleum pattern, probably a relic from the 60s, covered the hall. The walls were painted aquamarine. He stopped at the last door on the left. Nimble fingers felt for a thin brass key. Levi chose to ignore the timid expression on Petra’s face. He opened the door wordlessly and strolled inside; after a moment of hesitation, she followed.

The interior was a far cry from the exterior. Dark, polished hardwood smelled mildly of Pine-Sol. The couch, chairs, and walls were a pristine white. French doors led to a balcony. Petra left her shoes by the door. Levi was scrubbing his hands in the stainless steel sink of a kitchenette. He opened the refrigerator, grabbing bell peppers, spinach, a chunk of part-skim mozzarella, mushrooms, half a carton of eggs, and a loaf of whole wheat bread.

“Um… can I help you?” Petra cracked a tiny, nervous smile.

“Wash the vegetables. And your hands,” he replied while sharpening a knife.

Levi diced the veggies with the speed and precision of a professional chef. He handled the instrument with familiar ease. It was as if the man had been born knowing how to wield a knife. 

Soon omelets, toast, and coffee were sitting on the glass dining table. They ate in a comfortable silence. Petra was the first to speak. “Levi, you’re a really good cook! And you eat so healthy,” she exclaimed. Her golden brown eyes were grudgingly adorable.

“Hmph.” He was happy, inside. 

Petra added two teaspoons of sugar to her scalding hot coffee. Levi liked it black.

“This condo is 450 square feet. It was originally a studio apartment but my mortgage payments are fucking expensive. You’ve already seen the kitchenette. I have a tiny excuse for a bathroom. The main space serves as the living, dining, and bedroom,” he explained.

Petra’s face turned redder than the bell peppers in her omelette. “So does that mean that I’m sitting in your bedroom?” She took a quick swig of coffee and was rewarded with a burnt tongue.

“Yes, technically.” He neatly cut off a piece of toast with a knife and fork. 

“Uh… so where’s your bed?” The question came out as a muffled squeak. 

Levi arched a sly brow. “I only drag my futon out at night. There are multiple reasons why I keep these floors squeaky clean. Why, did you think that I would just leave my bedding out during the day?” He closed his eyes and sipped the strong, bitter brew.

When Petra didn’t reply, he cracked open a grey eye. 

“This location is worth the shitty mortgage payments and the overall lack of space.” Levi rose to place his dishes in the sink. To Petra’s surprise, he immediately began washing them. She crammed the last of the toast into her mouth and drained her mug. Levi took the plates before she could wash them. He seemed content with his hands covered in warm suds and the scent of lemon filling the kitchenette. The razor sharpness of the man's pupils was replaced with something softer. Could that be a shadow of a smile on his face?

Petra meandered to the French doors. After wiping his hands on a dish towel, Levi followed her, twisting the handles.

The view outside nearly took Petra's breath away. 

“This may be a fucking shoe box but it’s right on the sand,” commented Levi.

“I can smell the sea breeze. The white caps of the waves are gorgeous. Doesn’t the sand seem to sparkle?” Petra appeared completely entranced. Her hands lightly grasped the edge of the balcony.

Levi leaned against the door. “It feels free, right? Being able to see the ocean from your bedroom is pretty nice. I’d pay almost any price for it.”

Petra nodded, her eyes still holding a wistful, faraway look. “I agree.”


	4. Chapter 4

Petra speared a straw through the lid of a strawberry-mango-peach-pineapple smoothie. She took a sip. “Jazzy Juice makes the best smoothies! Here, try some!”

Levi scowled at the Barbie pink lip gloss staining the straw. His lip curled involuntarily. “That’s gross.” He was sitting at the edge of a booth, maximizing the distance between himself and a dirty window. Levi clenched his jaw at the sight. The glass was filthy. Hand prints, probably belonging to a small child, were stamped across the dusty surface. Muddy mire was crusted and cracked on the exterior side like paint peeling from a fence. The man had the worst craving for a bottle of Windex. 

Petra shook her head with a defeated smile. She walked to the napkin dispenser and returned to their booth with an unopened straw. “Here, Mr. Clean.”

He unwillingly tore off the paper. It was truly a miracle that Levi was sharing someone else’s drink. Her smoothie was sweet. Too sweet. The combination of high fructose corn syrup, whey protein, unripe frozen fruit, concentrated juices, artificial flavors, and ice numbed his tongue. Levi removed the straw. The muscles in his face tightened. “You can have the rest.” He slid the styrofoam cup across the table with a grimace. 

“Oh well, more for me!” laughed Petra. She leaned back, copper hair still damp from showering after scuba practice. It hung limply against her cheekbones. The woman was slurping rather loudly.

Generic bossa nova music could be heard over the whirring of several ice blenders. “Have you found a job yet?”, asked Levi. He folded his paper wrapper into a neat, tight, tiny square. 

“Not yet. I moved here seven weeks ago and the only full-time openings are at Old Navy, Burger King, and Walmart. Ideally, I’d like to find work in my field. Job prospects for new college graduates are pretty dismal. The economy is still kinda unstable.” 

Slate grey eyes were focused and unblinking. Levi steepled his fingers. “You should submit an application to the Trost Oceanographic Institute’s research and development department. A biology degree from Stanford speaks for itself. But I’m sure you can get the ‘esteemed’ Professor Hanji to write a letter of recommendation.” Esteemed? He rolled his eyes. “Erwin won’t reject you.”

“Wow, so would I get to work with you?”, winked Petra. 

“No. I'm in the tactical operations department.”

The radioactive glow in her eyes dimmed a tad but Levi pretended not to notice.

"But still... that would be awesome. Maybe we could carpool!"

It wasn’t a bad suggestion. The institute was located 18 miles up the coast. “My Prius gets fifty miles per gallon but carpooling would save fuel. We could split the bill at the end of the month.” He leaned over the table. “Conserving gas is extremely important.” 

Levi spoke with an intensity that sapped every molecule of oxygen from the air. His eyes were a battleship grey, narrower than the barrels of a double shotgun and sharper than scalpels. Saving gas was one of Levi’s most fundamental values. It was a precious resource, after all. 

"Y-Yeah... gas should be used wisely!" The statement was followed by unusually high pitched, nervous laughter. Honey-brown eyes darted to a trash can. Petra chewed on her straw until it split between grinding molars. 

Levi crossed his arms over his chest. "Erd runs a surf and dive shop down the coast that offers a well-respected certification test. I think you’re ready. Do you have any plans for Sunday?”

"I don't have anything planned. Why?" 

“The institute is sponsoring a Beach Cleanup Day. Erd will be there, along with some of my coworkers. There’s a barbecue party afterward. I can introduce you to him.” He tilted his head, casually awaiting her reaction. 

“That sounds awesome! I’ll definitely be there.” That radioactive glow had returned. Chernobyl was nothing in comparison.

Levi cocked his head. He arched a pencil-thin brow, squaring an ankle over a knee. "You think that picking up trash is exciting?" 

"Well...", Petra stammered. Her complexion shifted from a watermelon pink to a raspberry red. “If it’s with you…” 

The words were mumbled so quietly that they were nearly indecipherable. She covered her face with her hands. However, Levi had excellent hearing.

The tiniest smile dangled from the corner of his lips. "Good. I'll see you later, then."

\----  
“Thank you for attending the Trost Oceanographic Institute’s 5th Annual Beach Cleanup Day. As president of the institute, I commend each of your efforts to aid our cause. Clean water is necessary for our survival. Oceans are the biggest part of the planet’s water cycle, playing a key role in generating rain that sustains life on Earth. Trash in the ocean compromises the health of all creatures. Deep in the sea lie mysteries that we don’t yet understand. It is crucial that we prevent trash from destroying a potential asset,” said Erwin. He stood ramrod straight with his shoulders back. The president’s arms were clasped behind his body. Despite his sober expression, Erwin Smith was a conventionally handsome man. Tall, muscular, blond hair, blue eyes, chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw, you name it. A couple female volunteers were melting like butter on a biscuit. Levi rolled his eyes. 

After the speech, the volunteers were dismissed. Levi donned a pair of elbow-length rubber gloves. An immaculate white handkerchief covered his mouth. Another was tied over the top of his head. “Erwin needs to eat more fiber. He sure looked constipated up there,” Levi droned as Petra squeezed into her water shoes. 

She laughed weakly. They strapped waste baskets onto their backs. Armed with 32 inch trash grabbers, the duo attacked cigarette butts, beer bottles, styrofoam cups, soda cans, chip wrappers, plastic caps, and other refuse. Petra struggled to match Levi’s pace. He manipulated the aluminum pole like a spear, stabbing quickly and precisely. Soon their trash receptacles were full. 

Erwin was waiting for them at the edge of a small cove. He appraised Levi’s haul and nodded. The smaller man slightly narrowed his eyes as they exchanged a meaningful look. Erwin then turned to Petra. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for volunteering today. Levi has spoken highly of you.” The president offered her a firm handshake. She took his hand eagerly.

“You can take care of this shit. We’ll scour the region south of the cove,” said Levi. With empty baskets, the pair set out to explore new territory. The cycle repeated seven more times until Erwin gathered the volunteers to make an announcement. Levi removed the handkerchiefs from his head.

“Thanks to your hard work, we have combed through five miles of coastline, making the ocean safer for both humans and animals. Your participation has helped spread environmental awareness. As a gesture of thanks, we invite you to stay for a barbecue party,” announced Erwin. 

Hamburger patties, hot dogs, and ribs were placed on heated grills. Chests of ice-cold beverages were hauled around a bonfire pit. Sliced watermelon, cookies, grapes, and brownies protected by plastic wrap were also present. 

“Hey, guys! If you want to paddle or surf, I brought some gear from my dive shack. Just remember to bring back the equipment after you’re done!” shouted a blond man with a sun-bleached ponytail and a small beard. He had an open, laid-back demeanor. 

Petra waved at him. “Can I borrow a shortboard, please?”

“Certainly, miss! Choose whichever one you like,” replied the shopkeeper. 

Levi placed an arm on the man’s shoulder. “I see that you two are already acquainted. Petra, this is Erd. Erd, Petra. She’s interested in taking the scuba certification test through your school. Would that be a problem?” His tone implied that if Erd disagreed, he would live to regret it.

“You’re welcome to register anytime! Tests are conducted every Sunday.” Erd withdrew a wallet from his back pocket. “Here is my business card. The dive shop is about a mile north from here.”

“Alright! I’ll be there next Sunday.” Petra gleefully sprinted toward the pile of equipment. She grabbed a green shortboard from the stack. It was already waxed. The woman peeled off her t-shirt and shorts, revealing a red tankini that showed just a sliver of her toned stomach. Levi struggled to maintain a neutral expression. He had never seen her this exposed before. When they trained, Petra always wore a full-body wetsuit. “Levi! Let’s go catch some waves!”

“No.” He would rather watch her pretty figure from the shore. Clandestinely, of course. 

“Aww, it’s okay to enjoy life once in a while.” 

“Cleaning for seven hours was enjoyable.” It was the truth.

During their banter, a green-eyed teen had begun browsing through the stack of boards. He scratched his head. Thick brows were furrowed in concentration. 

Petra approached the boy with an angelic grin. “Hey, are you trying to choose a surfboard? That navy longboard looks pretty sweet,” she said in an encouraging tone.

“T-thanks! I’ll use it!” blurted the teenager. He crouched over the sleek blue board. “But I don’t know how to surf… I’ve never tried it before.”

“Oi, Jaegar. Has your brain turned to shit? Why would you touch a surfboard for the first time under these conditions? It’s best to learn in the morning. This stretch of coast demands intermediate to advanced skills.” Levi walked toward the kneeling boy. The short man hovered over him like an impending storm. Limpid grey irises turned darker than thunder clouds. He emitted a 1,000 volt aura.

“Umm… I--”

“Eren.” Levi’s voice was deadly quiet. “I am not hauling your half-dead ass from the waves because you refused to listen to common sense. Don’t get in over your head.”

“Wait, Levi! It’s okay. I’ll teach him how to paddleboard. It’s easier than surfing for beginners,” implored Petra. 

The frown lines between his eyebrows deepened. “...Fine.”  
\----

Levi watched his coworkers lay leaves of lettuce, sliced tomatoes, squares of American cheese, onions, ketchup, and mustard on the table. Somebody had prepared a homemade potato salad. The group had already consumed three extra-large bags of Ruffles potato chips. Half the sour cream and onion dip was gone. Levi refused to sample the snacks, citing that it was unsanitary. 

He walked to the water’s edge to inform Petra and Eren that the hamburgers and ribs were almost ready. However, before his toes touched the damp sand, Levi knew that something was wrong. Neither paddleboarder was in sight. Levi grabbed a red can that was resting beside Erd’s boards. He glanced to the left. Nothing but buoys. Dread began to percolate in his stomach. 

To the right was a channel of churning, choppy water; there was a break in the incoming wave pattern. It was a classic rip tide. Intuition screamed that this was not good. Levi sprinted alongside the water. A small figure was waving its arms to the far right. 

Only one set of arms.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter.

“Why do these things always happen when I’m off duty?”, Levi growled. The figure was pretty far out. He calculated the best angle of entrance to avoid fighting the raging rip current. Levi sprinted through the shallows, expertly feeling for sandbars, before diving beneath a gargantuan set of waves. The crash overhead was deafening yet the man barely registered the sound. Two dozen scenarios flashed through his mind's eye. There simply wasn’t enough data available. Sadly, the lifeguard was accustomed to working with limited information. There were always unpredictable factors in this field of work. 

Levi took advantage of a lull between the waves to narrow the gap. From here he could see Petra standing on her paddleboard; the woman cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Eren can’t move! He got stung!”

Sure enough, the teenager was lying face down. Both arms and one leg dangled limply over the board. The other leg was raw. 

“Petra, report back to Erwin. I don’t want to cause widespread panic. Tell him to send Auruo and Gunter with the first aid kit; I’ll take care of this.”

She only hesitated for a moment. “I’ll hurry back soon, Levi.” 

To an untrained eye, it looked as if Eren had been lashed with a barbed whip until his flesh was ravaged. Upon closer inspection, one could see tentacles wrapped around the skin. 

“It’s probably a cabbage head jellyfish. Hurts like a bitch but it won’t kill you. Oi, Jaeger. Why can’t you paddle with your arms?” inquired Levi. They seemed unscathed. He leaned over the boy to better assess the damage. The injury appeared to be limited to one limb.

“I panicked when I got caught in the riptide. Tried to swim perpendicular to the shore but I wasn’t getting any closer,” gasped Eren. His eyes fluttered shut from exhaustion. He looked like a broken puppet.

“Never try to fight a riptide like that,” hissed Levi. “Always swim parallel to the sand.” When the boy didn’t respond, Levi shook him roughly. “Eren, stay awake. Do you think that you can grip the sides of this board without falling off?”

The teen nodded weakly.

“Good.” Levi secured the red rescue can to the paddleboard. “Hang on tight. I’m going to pull us to shore.”  
\----

Auruo, Petra, and Gunter were waiting on the sand. They had already prepared pails of ocean water, a towel dampened with white vinegar, and baking powder. Levi wrapped Eren’s arms around his shoulders. The boy was half-carried and half-dragged out of the whitewash. 

“This might hurt a bit,” warned the lifeguard. He scraped a razor close to the skin, dislodging several dead jelly stingers. Eren winced sharply. 

Levi ignored the whine. He rinsed the area with salt water and vinegar. Finally, the wound was dressed with a baking powder paste. “Take some Benadryl when you go home, kid. You should be fine within 24 hours. If not, call a doctor.”

Eren struggled to a sitting position. Color was finally beginning to return to his face. Petra patted the boy’s shoulder reassuringly.

She then walked to Levi’s side, interlacing their fingers. He acknowledged the gesture with a gentle squeeze.  
\---

2000...  
2200…  
2300 feet.  
This expedition tested the limits of a modern atmospheric diving suit. It was constructed from cast aluminum. Levi was alone in a world rarely seen by human eyes. The abyss was pitch black save for the occasional glowing jellyfish. Eren’s stupid face immediately came to mind. 

Levi was calm. He knew that the slightest miscalculation would signal his death. Nevertheless, the diver felt at ease despite the fact that his body could be crushed like a can of Pepsi at these depths. There was no room for mistakes. Grueling conditioning had made his lungs super efficient. Levi knew exactly how to maximize the precious, life-sustaining gas in his tank. Without gas, you were dead.

“We’re picking up unusual activity below you,” said Erwin over the radio. “Sonar detects a large moving organism. At least 40 feet long.”

“Understood.”

There were only two plausible creatures. Well, technically three, but it was most likely a giant squid or a young sperm whale. Hopefully the behemoth wasn’t hungry. A camera was already rolling, projecting a faint light to illuminate the approaching monster. Levi noticed a shift in the water around him. The liquid had bowed before the beast, earnestly splitting to form a path for its king. 

His lungs constricted when a six-foot mantle jetted into his peripheral vision. The eyes were at least a foot wide. Levi willed his heart to be still. It was a pointless effort because if the squid was hunting, there would be no chance of survival. Not even a body to bury. 

Nature’s weapons always appeared most formidable when one was in potential danger. The creature’s eight arms were covered with hundreds of suction cups. Each was equipped with serrated teeth. The lightest brush would separate the atmospheric suit from its helmet. The carcass of a giant squid was intimidating. Watching footage of the titanic creature was awe-inspiring. But being alone at the bottom of the ocean with a giant squid had to be one of the most terrifying experiences on the planet.

A pair of feeding tentacles ending in clubs swished within ten feet. Levi steeled himself. He had been prepared to fall in the line of duty upon entering this line of work. It was amazing that he had survived this long without suffering any serious injuries. Images of Petra laughing, swimming, and holding his hand distracted Levi from the deadly tentacles for a very brief moment. He almost laughed. Levi had never expected to die as a romantic. 

No guns, no swords. No final “fuck you” to the world. In the end, the man wasn’t very surprised that he would meet his end in the mouth of a fucking giant squid. Because nature had a crude sense of humor. It had been an okay life, Levi mused. There was a lot of shit that he’d prefer not to remember but he would die with only one regret.

It would have been nice to kiss Petra. Just once.  
\---

“What the fuck… no way.”  
“I can’t believe it.”  
“Oh my fucking god…”

The control room had erupted in emotional outbursts. Some of the technicians were actually crying. Barely anything could be heard over the ruckus. However, the firm voice of Erwin Smith commanded their attention.

“What we have just witnessed is unprecedented. Thanks to the courage of one individual -- a soldier on the front lines of ocean exploration -- we have gained valuable footage of the elusive giant squid in its natural habitat. And, more importantly, we made this remarkable achievement without any casualties.” The tall blond patted Levi on the back. “You did well,” he said quietly. Levi stretched his arms, massaging shoulders that had been petrified by fear less than an hour ago. “Thank god that it was simply curious and not hungry. I’m getting too old for this,” Levi replied evenly.

\---  
Petra drummed manicured fingers on the steering wheel of her BMW. The woman skimmed through an iPod until she found a playlist with tracks by Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, One Direction, Nicki Minaj, and some other unbearable pop stars.

“On the shit scale, this ranks lower than watery diarrhea,” grumbled Levi. Petra simply turned up the volume.

It was a leisurely Sunday. Petra had passed her certification test with flying colors. To celebrate, they agreed to splurge on some ridiculously overpriced tea at a brand new coffee shop before embarking on their first dive as a couple. Petra had insisted on driving. She didn’t mind if the boysenberry coupe got a little salty or sandy.

“This coffee shop sounds wonderful! I hope that they offer some nice scones or muffins. My favorite is carrot raisin,” babbled Petra. She skimmed through another playlist at a red stoplight. “Levi, what kind of music makes you get up and dance?”

The woman was met with a scathing glare. She smiled, tapping her foot on the gas.

Levi saw it through his peripheral vision before Petra was aware that there was a problem. By the time she noticed, it was too late. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of screeching tires shook the street. Levi gave Petra a sad smile. Life was so ironic. How many opportunities had he wasted? Now she would never know how much he loved her.

The driver was drunk. He had pushed the pedal to the floor, ran a red light, and rammed into the passenger’s side of the BMW at 75 miles per hour.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter!

“I’m sorry, Miss. The procedure was unsuccessful.” A doctor in teal scrubs looked at her apologetically, still wearing an elastic surgical cap. “I’ll leave so you can have some privacy.”

Petra’s lip trembled. She bit the chapped skin until a metallic flavor bloomed on her tongue. Runny mascara framed puffy, bloodshot citrine eyes. Sooty trails dribbled to her jaw. A sob wracked her body, rising in pitch until her throat felt raw. She collapsed like a broken marionette. 

Strong arms enveloped the small woman. “He’s going to be alright.”

“How can you say that!?” sobbed Petra. The other woman only held her tighter. “Professor Hanji, what if he doesn’t make it through the night? Levi is still in a coma. It’s all my fault.”

Hanji patted Petra’s back. Tears dribbled from the corners of her cocoa eyes but she refused to let the strawberry blonde see them. “It’s not over until it’s over. Levi is a soldier at heart; he’s still fighting to live. Have some faith in him. Don’t give up just yet.”

A dry sob shook Petra’s tiny frame but her breathing became less erratic. Hanji tousled the hair of the petite woman. It was matted from neglect.

“I’m so glad that you came, professor.”

“Of course. Levi would beat the living shit out of me if I hadn’t. And I’m here to support you, too!”, Hanji declared with more gusto than she felt.

Footsteps echoed against the long tile hallway. The women glanced up to see a tall, stoic blond. “I tried to contact both parents but the numbers in his file are invalid. Knowing Levi, they’re probably fake.” Erwin Smith sank heavily into a plastic chair that was way too small for his towering figure. The man’s moss green tie hung slightly askew. There were bags under his eyes. Nevertheless, Erwin remained alert and calm. He exchanged a meaningful glance with Hanji before addressing Petra. “I’m aware that you are probably blaming yourself right now. However, even if Levi doesn’t wake up, it’s not your fault.” Erwin nodded to Hanji. “I need to return to work. There is a board meeting to discuss next year’s budget. Please excuse me.”

Hanji adjusted the thick-rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose. “We’ll see you later, Erwin. I’ll tell Levi that you stopped by when he comes to.” She was careful to say “when” and not “if.” Petra was still in a vulnerable mental state. “Thanks for agreeing to that blind date at the Mediterranean restaurant. I’m glad that the two of you met. Erwin and I think that you’re perfect for each other! I know that Levi isn’t a lovey dovey guy but I’m sure that he adores you in his own grumpy way.” Hanji opened her tote bag, handed Petra a package of tissues, and grabbed a cloth to clean her spotted lenses. 

Petra leaned against Hanji. The older woman wrapped an arm around her former student. Physical and emotional exhaustion pulled Petra into a realm of sleep. After a few minutes, her breathing became slow and shallow. 

\----  
“Miss, your boyfriend has regained consciousness,” said an unfamiliar voice. It was faint, like the whisper of a friend whose name and face she had forgotten. He kinda sounded like the surg-- 

“Petra! Wake up, let’s go!”

The petite woman was roughly shaken awake by Hanji. It took a few moments to process the information, but once her mind was lucid, Petra bolted out of the chair and sprinted down the intensive care wing. Hanji was right on her heels. However, the brunette stopped just short of the sign that said “LEVI” in faded, blue dry erase marker. “It’s okay, honey. Why don’t the two of you catch up first?” She grinned, ruffling Petra’s hair.

“Th-thanks, Professor. I’ll see you in a bit!” she smiled wearily.

The interior of the room was austere and smelled mildly of disinfectant. The floor, walls, and curtains were a pristine white. Petra vaguely wondered if Levi liked the decor.

She tiptoed past the curtain to his bed. A heart rate monitor, multiple IVs, braces, and various casts made the short man appear so vulnerable and tiny. Petra held back a sob as the extent of his injuries hit her like a grenade.

“...Levi?”

He coughed weakly, eyes half-glazed and complexion half-drained. Blue-gray orbs followed the sound of her voice. When they made eye contact, something seemed to click. Levi sat up straighter, only to hiss when his body struggled to comply.

Petra rushed forward, gingerly wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so glad that you’re awake. I was afraid that you’d left me behind.” 

Levi gently returned the hug. He nuzzled into her shoulder before reluctantly pulling away. “I’m happy that you’re alright. How long have I been out? What happened, exactly? I remember that some shitface barreled into the side of your BMW. That explains why I look like a fucking mummy from the waist down.”

She was beyond relieved that his memory had been spared. Petra sniffled, wiped her nose on the back of her hand, and hoped that Levi wasn’t too grossed out. “You’ve been in a coma for 40 hours. The drunk driver is currently in jail. We can file a lawsuit once you’re better. Erwin says that the institute’s health insurance policy is one of the best in the nation so you don’t need to worry about hospital bills.”

“Physical therapy is going to be a bitch,” he growled. A cold and calculating edge had returned to his steel eyes. “I presume that you’ve already talked to the doctor. What’s the estimated recovery time?” 

Levi knew something was wrong the second that Petra averted her eyes. However, he wasn’t going to settle for a half-assed answer. “Tell me what he said, verbatim. I’ll get the information out of the surgeon soon enough but I’d rather hear it from you first.” 

The woman reached for his hand. She inhaled a shaky breath, mentaling girding herself. “Levi… the lumbar region of your spinal cord was injured. They attempted an experimental surgery but the results weren’t good.” 

His eyes widened. That meant…

“...You’re paralyzed from the waist down.”

When he didn’t reply immediately, Petra erupted into a series of anguished sobs. “I’m so sorry, Levi. I’m so sorry… if I hadn’t been driving that day… if I hadn’t asked you to go scuba diving… you’d be okay. This never would have happened!” Her words became unintelligible. 

It pained Levi to see Petra so distraught. “Look, no one could have predicted that this was going to happen. It’s not your fault. If you want to blame someone, then blame the asshole who was driving drunk at 10 AM in the morning. Unexpected things happen. What matters is adapting and moving forward regardless of how shitty the situation is.” He was drained from the brief exchange yet refused to shatter eye contact. 

It wasn't bravado. The man was never one to mince words and he honestly felt that sulking over the past was counterproductive. Naturally, he was angry. He understood the domino of repercussions. Levi would never dive again. He could no longer serve as a lifeguard. However, the man didn’t feel an iota of self-pity. “So, what’s our next plan of action?”

Petra loved Levi because his fortitude inspired her to be stronger. His determination made her set the bar higher. His subtle affections made her hopeful in a world that could be callous and cruel. She wracked her brain for something positive to say. “W-well, umm. I’m positive that you’ll master maneuvering a wheelchair super fast. Er, since you already have a lot of upper body strength,” Petra smiled hesitantly. She tucked a few stray strands behind her ear but the effort was a lost cause because her hair was a mess. “My father is hosting a black tie fundraiser for the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. There will be a silent auction. The event will be held at our estate at seven with an open bar and refreshments. I was wondering if… maybe you want to go?”

“Hell no”, was his mental reaction. However, Levi’s eyes remained impassive. “I don’t have the cash to bid on a painting that looks like the work of a toddler. Hanging out with fat swine who feed off the 99% is less exciting than sitting on a porcelain throne for three hours because of shit that just won’t come out.” Levi folded his arms. “But I guess I owe you this favor. Since you waited 40 hours until I woke up.” A light wash of cherry blossom pink dusted his cheekbones. Petra noticed, of course. The pink deepened into a dusty rose.

“I’ll visit you every day, Levi. I promise.”  
\----  
The estate had way too many fucking stairs leading from the garden terrace to the grand double doors. Levi had always been an independent man. It was aggravating to accept help up the steps. 

Some of the guests looked at him with pity. Others turned their heads, whispering hushed words behind gloved hands. Levi regarded them idly. People were stupid, regardless of their socioeconomic background. He wheeled himself down the glossy marble reception hall. A crescent moon was visible through the skylights above. Antique crystal chandeliers cast a gentle glow. They were fitted with thousands of candles; Levi would have jumped at the challenge to clean the sooty residue and hardened wax drippings while suspended by cables from the ceiling. What a shame.

An elderly man with thinning chestnut hair bowed before Levi, extending a hand. He shook it politely. 

“You must be Levi. I’m Petra’s father. Before she sees you, I thought we should talk,” said Mr. Ral. An anxious smile tugged at the weathered lines of his mouth. “She mentioned that you respected her determination and trained her for the scuba certification test. Petra wanted to devote herself to you. Well, I guess that she’s too starry-eyed to consider how her father feels!”, Mr. Ral laughed nervously. Levi acknowledged his presence with a slightly raised brow but refrained from speaking.

“Well, as her father, I think it’s too early for her to marry. She’s still so young, with so much to experience…” his words trailed off awkwardly. 

That sure escalated quickly. Levi feigned disinterest. His eyes drifted to a string quartet that was playing a piece by Vivaldi or some shit. Fortunately, the conversation was derailed when a familiar strawberry blonde spotted the two men from across the hall. She was wearing a gold, A-line gown and diamond earrings. Petra waved cheerfully. Mr. Ral took this as a signal to make a quiet escape.

“I hope that my father wasn’t talking your ear off. He generally goes on and on about topics like the stock market, yachting, and golfing,” apologized Petra. She grabbed the wheelchair handles, rolled through the reception hall, and passed a grand ballroom that was set with tables and placecards. Petra stopped before a plain wooden door. After fishing through her clutch for a key, she rammed the door with a shoulder, forcing it to creak open. A strip of starry night sky was visible through the crack.

“So when were you going to tell me that you were thinking of getting married?” interrogated Levi. His intonation was somewhat abrasive despite the fluttering of his heart.

“W-what!?” squeaked the woman. She wheeled Levi onto a simple concrete slab beside a tightly wound hose. “Um… this is a service entrance. Mainly used by our gardeners. But it has an amazing view of the constellations at this time of year! And the rose garden looks lovely from here.”

Levi patiently waited until Petra had exhausted herself. “Was your father serious?”

“I… I think that he was just being an overprotective guardian. After my mother died, he’s taken the responsibility of being a single parent very seriously. So I think he um, jumped the gun,” she admitted. Petra frowned. A bit of red lipstick transferred to her upper teeth. However, she looked cute and angelic with the moon backlighting her hair so Levi refrained from pointing it out.

He tore his eyes away to study the landscape. “Why the hell do rich people put statues of naked guys in their gardens? Is that one taking a piss? What the fuck?” he said eloquently.

Petra’s laugh was musical. “That’s an acquisition from the Philadelphia Museum of Art! Well, I guess I know what to buy you for Christmas. Forget that year’s supply of Windex that you were secretly hoping for!” Using her height advantage, she ruffled the top of his hair. Which had been meticulously parted.

“Petra.” 

She froze immediately. He was using "that" tone.

“S-sorry, Levi!”

“I can’t see you. Come over here.”

She meekly scooted in front of the chair. He indicated for her to crouch down with an index finger until their faces were level. Petra averted her eyes like a chastised puppy. Levi used this as an opportunity to wrap his arms around her neck, bring her closer and place a butterfly kiss on her lips. The contact was so light that it could have been imagined. He drew back to see a mixture of emotions staining the woman’s face red. 

Honey eyes shone with elation but the smile on Petra’s face also held something else. She bit her lower lip until that silent grin erupted into raucous laughter. He frowned. Instead of a thin grim line, it looked more like a pout.

Petra removed her right glove and brought an index finger toward his lips. He reflexively cringed, imagining all of the germs and sweat that could be on the pad of the finger. 

Levi turned his head. The woman rubbed a spot below his cupid’s bow. “Levi, you look pretty fabulous wearing my lipstick, but only consider drag if you’re completely out of other employment options. There, it’s gone now.” She stood back and admired her handiwork.

“Why do women wear fire engine red lipstick? I was confident that it wouldn’t transfer,” he quipped. The man adjusted the links on his cuffs. “You look nice without makeup, too.”

“Why, thank you!” she exclaimed with the sunniest of smiles. 

The couple chatted late into the night. They missed the dancing and dessert cocktails. Not that Levi cared. He was still coming to terms with his disability but honestly, he had never felt happier. Levi was certain that he could win the Wheelchair Division of the Boston Marathon. He was probably Humanity's Strongest Paraplegic. Petra promised to help Levi train. They were in it for the long haul, but for now, the couple would take it one day at a time.

END


End file.
